Misplaced Moments
by Caeleinn
Summary: <html><head></head>Missing and extended scenes from my DA2 fic, Of Things Misplaced. These are scenes that are mentioned, missing, or simply glossed over in the main fic; a sort of peek behind the scenes. All characters will be featured at some point, plus some of my original characters from the story. Rated M for future reasons.</html>


_"I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them." _  
><em> ― Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer Abroad <em>

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><p>Anders set an easy pace for traveling the next day, making sure to stop whenever he noticed Bailey was lagging. He caught her looking over her shoulder several times and finally asked what she was searching for. "More of those creatures," she replied.<p>

He chuckled at her response. "Don't worry; I'll know if one comes around."

"By magic?"

"Not really. Didn't you get a sniff of the one that attacked you? I smelled it before I saw it."

She stared at him and finally gave him a half shrug. "Sorry. I'm not exactly used to being attacked by creatures from a nightmare, so forgive me if I was too busy screaming and getting knocked out to stop and smell the roses, so to speak."

Anders stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression serious. "I've promised to get you to our destination safely. Believe me when I say I will know if any are about. If we are attacked, just find a place to hide and get out of the line of fire."

"Was that a joke? Seriously?"

He furrowed his eyebrows then realized what he had said. His lips quirked into a smile. "It wasn't meant to be, but the meaning is the same."

Bailey rolled her eyes. "Great. A one man travelling show; humor and magic all in one," she muttered.

"And I'm good looking. Can't forget that."

She took a deep breath and blew it out through her nose and began walking again. The finally stopped for the night as the sun began to sink behind the trees. The spot Anders chose was near a small stream and she grudgingly helped him gather wood for a fire. She watched as he shot a small jet of flame into the pile. "That's handy. You never have to pack matches or a fire starter."

He smiled up at her as he pulled a small pot from one of his packs, along with a handful of dried meat and a couple of small potatoes. "Yes, I'm rather useful for some things. Mind the fire, will you, while I get some water?"

Before she could reply, he walked off toward the stream. She poked at the fire and fed it small bits of wood to build it up. She had it going well when he returned a few minutes with a handful of thin spikey green plants. "Found some wild onion near the bank. Thought it would add some flavor to the soup."

She moved out of his way as he began to prepare dinner. Looking in the direction he had just arrived from, she bent to grab her pack and started walking in that direction. Without looking up, he said, "There's a clump of bushes along the bank that is thick enough for a screen if you want to wash up or anything else." He glanced up at her as she halted for a moment.

Bailey nodded her thanks to him and continued walking. Finding the bushes he spoke of, she checked to make sure he couldn't see her. Once she was sure he wouldn't see anything he shouldn't, she opened her pack and pulled out the small hand towel she'd thrown in it at the last minute before the failed hike. She then withdrew a sturdy pocket knife and cut a small part of the towel off to bathe with. It wasn't the most luxurious bath she'd ever had, but it was certainly refreshing.

Anders glanced up at her as she dropped her bag upon returning to the fireside. "Feel better?"

She shrugged. "It was cold." She peered at the pot and said, "Is it ready yet?"

"The meat is still a bit tough, but it could be ready if you are hungry enough."

"I'll wait a bit longer." She dropped to the ground and crossed her legs. Her elbows rested on her knees and her chin propped on her fists. She stared into the embers at the base of the fire, her mind racing with her situation.

Anders gazed at her for a few moments before bending to stir the soup again. His voice was quiet as he said, "How are you doing?"

Bailey snorted. "How do you think? I should be at a campfire with my friends, roasting hot dogs and making s'mores, not jumping out of my skin every time a bush near me rustles."

Anders laid the spoon aside and crouched down, his hands clasped lightly together. "I'm sorry. I know this isn't where you want to be, or where you belong. I understand that feeling. Better than you know," he finished softly.

Bailey lifted her eyes to look across the fire at him. He didn't bother to hide the pain within his own eyes. She turned her face away from his and he caught the faint shimmer of a tear in her eye. He sighed softly and said, "Can you watch our dinner for a few minutes? I'm going to set some wards around the camp. I didn't sleep last night and I am beyond exhausted." He rose and walked out into the darkness.

Bailey watched him walk away and finally took notice of his shoulders drooping with fatigue. A momentary stab of guilt flashed through her, but she quickly squashed it. He'd volunteered to help her, after all. She could barely see him as he moved about the perimeter of the camp, his hands glowing with a pale blue light as he inscribed patterns in the air. She probably should have been more freaked out to see magic actually working, but having spent several years in college exploring other belief systems (Wicca being one of them) it was surprisingly easy to accept. It also drove home the fact that she definitely wasn't in her own world anymore.

Pushing that thought away, she moved to give the soup a stir and lifted the spoon to taste it. It was a bit bland without salt or pepper, but it was palatable at least. She glanced up as Anders moved back into the circle of firelight and dropped to the ground. A small remote part of her admired the way the light danced over his cheekbones. _'He is good looking. That nose is so perfectly straight. And those eyes are like dark honey…'_ She suddenly realized that those eyes were gazing back at her and one eyebrow was raised in question.

Anders felt a small smile touch his lips as Bailey suddenly found the soup more interesting than his face. He didn't mind; it gave him a chance to study her. She had pulled her long blonde hair back into a braid, then twisted it up into a knot on the back of her head. It was held in place by a long twig she had picked up while they walked. He couldn't see the color of her eyes in this light, but he knew from seeing them earlier that they were a silvery gray color. They reminded him of Lake Calenhad in the early winter. And although he hadn't seen it yet, he was sure she would have a beautiful smile, if the shape of her lips was anything to go by. _'Stop looking at her lips. She doesn't belong here. Get her to the Circle in Kirkwall and then do what you need to there.' _He turned his head aside and closed his eyes for a moment.

Bailey looked up as the sound of a soft snore reached her ears. Anders had slumped down, his chin on his chest and bits of hair falling over his forehead. Dammit, she didn't want to like this man, but her soft heart couldn't let him sleep like that. She moved as quietly as she could to retrieve the blanket he'd rolled up that morning and draped it over his shoulders. Her hand must have brushed against him, because his eyes snapped open and he grabbed her hand. A bolt of icy cold shot up her arm and she yelped loudly before jerking away from him.

Anders jumped to his feet and held out both hands. "Oh, Maker! Bailey! I should have warned you that I'm a light sleeper! Did I hurt you? Let me have a look, please."

She cradled her arm against her chest and glared at him. "What the hell was that?"

"I will explain, but let me examine your arm.."

"Answer me first."

He stopped trying to take her arm and gazed at her. "I'm not just a healer. I was also trained in offensive magic." The corner of his mouth lifted a little. "That particular one is meant to freeze my attacker. I believe I mentioned yesterday that this country has been involved in a war against the Darkspawn for the past year and a half…" He reached toward her again. "Your cry of pain brought me fully awake. If I hurt you, I apologize. Please let me check for damage."

She continued to glare at him a few more moments. _'Great. A mage with PTSD.'_ She finally stepped closer to him and held her arm out to him. She couldn't straighten it and as he gently cradled it in his left hand and traced the fingers of his other hand over her skin, she realized something else. "I can't feel your hands," she said, unable to stop a tremor from entering her voice.

He glanced up at her then his hands began to glow with a warm reddish orange color. He wrapped them around her arm just above the elbow and slowly drew them down to her fingertips. He repeated the motion several more times. After a minute or so, sharp prickles raced down her arm and she hissed as feeling returned with a vengeance. The glow around his hands changed to a cool blue and the pain subsided. He released her arm and took a step away from her. She flexed her fingers and said, "Thank you."

He nodded once. "You're welcome. And thank you for the moment of kindness with the blanket. I regret my reaction spoiled it. But I have slept in more uncomfortable conditions." He stepped back over to check their dinner. "I think the meat is tender enough now…if you're hungry."

She wanted to deny it, but the stomach suddenly growled loudly, betraying her. Anders shot her a grin and said, "Alright. I'll give you the bigger bowl tonight."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but accepted the bowl he handed her. The extra cooking time had helped with the flavor, but she still thought it needed salt. If only she'd thought to look around for some coltsfoot or something earlier when she'd gone to bathe…

Her stomach finally satisfied, she staunched a sudden yawn. Anders caught it and moved toward his pack. He pulled out his cloak, a thick dark blue woolen one that had come with his old uniform. Pushing those thoughts away, he went to drape it over her shoulders. "It's not much, but it's warm and should cover you easily. I'll see about getting you a blanket in the next village we come to. Until then, the cloak is yours." He moved to the other side of the fire again and sat back down.

Bailey's fingers grabbed the edges and pulled it close around her. The fabric was felted and thick and best of all, warm. Judging from his height, it did appear the cloak would cover her adequately. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I was getting cold."

He waved one hand at her. "You're welcome. Go to sleep, Bailey. The wards will let me know if anything crosses them. And you already know I'll respond quickly." He gave her a small smile and was gratified to see her own lips twitch upward. It was quick and gone in only a second, but his thoughts from earlier proved to be true.

She did have a beautiful smile.

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><p><em>AN: I'm trying to get my muses back to continue the main story, so I decided to extend some scenes from some of the chapters. This particular scene takes place in Chapter Two on Bailey's second night in Thedas. I will have another extension from that same chapter soon, but thought this one may help in establishing the beginning of their relationship.<em>


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